That's Not Nice
by KikyCat
Summary: Some things cannot go unpunished... Entry for the SGAHC boots challenge.


Posted to the SGAHC Challenge "Hey, at least I have my boots on!" (30/08/2005)

Author: Kiky

Spoilers: nope

Season: 2

Genre: Humour

Rating: K+

Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me and I'm happy to leave the responsibility of a good show to the people at MGM

Author's Notes: English isn't my first language, so there could be some really weird mistakes in there..sorry... feel free to point out any mistakes

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**That's Not Nice **

"Uh, now that's just nasty."

"Shut up, McKay."

"You're not helping, Rodney! Ouch! Be careful with that, Colonel!"

"Oh, come on, you two. Don't tell me you can't smell that."

"Sorry, Carson, but it's stuck pretty good. This is going to hurt."

"It's GOING to?"

It had been such a pretty day. For the first time since… well … forever, John had been able to get Carson off-world with only about fifteen minutes worth of arguing, complaints and lame excuses. But this was probably less a result of Beckett getting used to the idea of gate-travel and more a result of the rather beautiful pictures the MALP had sent back. And until about ten minutes ago he had actually been able to keep his promise of a pleasant, peril- and Wraith-free planet, without (obvious) death traps, nice temperatures (maybe a bit on the too warm side) and cloudless sky.

Okay, the fact that there were three suns shining, three purple suns for that matter, was a bit creepy, but hey, why not. It was the Pegasus Galaxy after all.

Besides, the purple glow provided such an awful contrast to McKay's blue shirt that John had to grin every time he looked into the scientist's direction.

Yeah, maybe he might even have made a couple of not so flattering comments, but it was Rodney's fault really; why was he wearing it anyway, when everyone else wore the new black uniforms? (they matched nicely with purple, as far as he was concerned)

"Rodney, come here. I need you to hold his leg."

Yeah, it had really been a nice day. The three of them had been hiking through easy terrain for about three hours to a rather modern looking structure that had Rodney almost drooling about the prospect of exploring its secrets.

And as it turned out, even though no new laws of physics or even a proper recipe for apple pie had been found (how in the world could someone – a chef even - actually mess up apple pie was beyond him, he still felt sick every time he remembered that particular lunch experience), Rodney seemed happy with his findings, Carson enjoyed a bit of quiet down time and John was happy, because they were.

That was, until they had started the trek back and, just after a couple of hundred metres, Carson stepped onto a plant that didn't appreciate being stepped on, and a big thorn, John had believed to be a long, soft, yellow leave had buried itself deep into the doctor's sole.

Rodney made a face and held his nose, but sat down next to Beckett.

"Uff, as I said: nasty. You sure, you really want that off?"

"Do you know, DOCTOR McKay, what the Hippocratic Oath is?" Uh oh, the Colonel knew that voice and if Rodney had any instinct of self-preservation he would shut up now.

Rodney snorted, "Oh, please, every first-grader knows what that is!" Obviously not.

"That's good, because I just MIGHT forget it next time you end up in my infirmary." Now, instinct kicked in and Rodney held onto the doctor's lower leg with both hands without further comments.

"Carson, you sure about this? Shouldn't we wait with pulling it out until we're back in Atlantis?"

"Unless you want to carry me all the way back or find a way to miraculously get rid of that outcrop in front of the gate to get a Jumper, yes, Colonel, I'm sure."

Judging from Carson's gritted teeth and sweaty forehead, it had to hurt like a SOB, so John gripped the thorn as tightly as the slippery surface allowed and, with casting a quick look towards Rodney, pulled it out.

Carson let out a yelp and plopped to the ground pressing his hands over his face. With one look at the spike he had just pulled out of the other man's foot John couldn't blame him one bit. He was surprised it hadn't gone all the way through.

They had been lucky the lower part of the thorn had broken off immediately after Carson had stepped on it, so that they were able to pull Carson's shoe from his foot prior to getting the rest out.

John busied himself with wrapping the now freely bleeding foot with a bandage, while Rodney -not very subtly- quickly moved away from Carson again.

"Uhm, Carson? I know you're in pain and all, but you really have to do something about that smell!"

Carson was obviously rather shocked by that statement but pushed himself back onto his elbows, his face becoming even redder than it had been before.

"You daft, self complacent, sneaky, bloody bastard! We've been running around in the heat for six hours, what do you bloody hell expect? Ya think your's smell any better?"

"Hey, at least I have my boots ON!"

John thanked his extensive military training for quick reflexes (and so should Rodney), when Carson suddenly found his strength again and lunged towards the shocked physicist in what must have been the quickest attempted tackle John had ever seen. He was sure had he not caught the doctor around the waist and pinned him back to the ground, Rodney McKay would have found his premature demise on this nice and sunny afternoon.

The slow hobble back home was made in absolute silence, since Carson gave Rodney the silent treatment, and Rodney, sulking over an, in his eyes, unjustified punishment, refused to talk at all.

So the Colonel was more than just relieved once they were back in the city, Carson safely tucked away in the infirmary (even though John was fairly sure Carson would have made a beeline for it anyway, hurt foot or not) and advised Rodney to keep an at least 500 m distance from the place for the next 48 hours.

It wasn't until three days later that John saw Carson again, who had been "advised" (anyone who knew Dr. Biro, would take her "advices" VERY seriously! That woman was just scary!) to stay off his feet and in his quarters. He passed him by on the corridor leading from the main labs towards the control room and looking like Sylvester who had finally managed to eat Tweety. And he was indeed chewing on something and gave the Colonel a wide, chocolate-coloured grin before disappearing behind the next corner.

"Oh, no!"

No sooner had John said those words when an ear-splitting scream resounded from somewhere behind him. Since he had a fairly good idea of what had just happened he wasn't in a particular hurry to go and investigate. When the Colonel finally arrived at the open door to Rodney McKay's lab, he pretty much found what he expected.

Rodney sat on a chair, a piece of plastic in his hands with a look of utter despair all over his face. John had never seen anyone look so miserable and wretched in his entire life. (Okay, according to his mother he had looked like that when Tracy Stevens had dumped him in seventh grade)

One of the drawers behind the physicist was wide open. THE drawer. The one drawer Rodney kept locked at all times and only he himself knew where the key was. But apparently, someone else did now, too.

"He took them!"

John pressed his lips together and gave him a - hopefully – sympathetic look. "I'm sorry."

"All of them. And he didn't just TAKE them…!"

John had made his way towards the desk, when Rodney offered no further explanation and took a look onto the crime scene. Oh, that was indeed rather cruel.

Instead of the big pile of various chocolate treats, John had only once even been allowed to see, let alone touch, there was now a huge pile of plastic wrappers and bags that had once contained sweet delectabilities but had now been cruelly ripped open and depleted of their contents.

Rummaging through the pile to maybe find one overlooked piece to cheer up the devastated person in front of him, all John came up with was a small spray with a note attached. Fighting hard to save his friend from this last bit of insult, but not being strong enough to resist the opportunity, John deposited the item on the desk and fled the room.

It promised instant fresh breath with lemon flavour – all natural ingredients, of course.

"Courtesy of Dr. MD C.B."


End file.
